


I had been lost to you, sunlight

by sosobriquet



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Can Have A Little Punishment As A Treat, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, M/M, Naughty angel, Offscreen Kink Negotiation, Rope Bondage, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosobriquet/pseuds/sosobriquet
Summary: "How does it feel to confess your sins?" Crowley asks, sliding around Aziraphale's side. Even in a human body, sometimes the snake in him is unmistakable. The arm across Aziraphale's shoulders, the press and lean of him against his side, feels so much like being wrapped in a serpent's coils.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62
Collections: Choofe Your Faces





	I had been lost to you, sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jasmine_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmine_tea/gifts).



> This scene has previously been discussed and agreed upon by both parties, which is referenced in the text itself, though it is not shown "onscreen". 
> 
> BDSM should always be safe, sane, consensual, and have a safeword!
> 
> Inspired by this lovely art by [jasmineandstars / jasmine_tea](https://twitter.com/jasmineandstars/)  
> featuring [biting](https://twitter.com/jasmineandstars/status/1228092316726046721?s=20) and [rope bondage, spanking](https://twitter.com/jasmineandstars/status/1248817030901440512)

Crowley, pressed close against Aziraphale's back, reaches around to undo the buttons of his trousers one at a time.

"Angel," he rumbles, low and dangerous, into Aziraphale's ear, making him squirm. "You know what you've done, don't you?"

"Yes," Aziraphale answers, voice unsteady. He trembles in Crowley's arms, the effort of holding still almost too much to bear. He wants to grind his arse back against Crowley's hips, thrust his hips forward into Crowley's hands.

"Tell me what you did," Crowley purrs, popping loose another button before digging his fingers into the meat of Aziraphale's thighs. His grip pulls the material taut over the slow swell of Aziraphale's erection, but it offers no relief. 

Hips twitching helplessly, Aziraphale whimpers, throwing his head back against Crowley's shoulder. "I ate it!" he wails quietly as Crowley's teeth nip the skin below his ear. 

Crowley makes a dissatisfied noise, his teeth sinking deeper. He strokes a thumb across Aziraphale's thigh, so close to where Aziraphale has begun to strain against his trousers. But not close enough. 

Aziraphale covers the hand with his own, and squeezes gently. _Don't stop._ Crowley releases his grip on Aziraphale's neck, laving his tongue across the marks left by his teeth.

"I promised to wait until our anniversary," Aziraphale breathes as Crowley's thumb draws closer. He yelps, indignant and startled, as Crowley's thumb skips over his thickening erection to pop another button loose and he nips at Aziraphale's jaw with slightly fanged teeth.

"When _is_ our anniversary, naughty angel?" Crowley says insistently, slipping his hands beneath the sagging waistband of Aziraphale's opened trousers. There's nothing underneath, the cheeky bastard.

"Tonight," Aziraphale whines, "after sundown." He shifts his hips to try to wriggle out of his trousers, but Crowley holds him firm and the trousers cling stubbornly to his hips and the backs of Crowley's hands.

"And when did you eat the cake you begged me to make for you?" Crowley slides his hands lower, still pulling the fabric of Aziraphale's trousers tight. He strokes both thumbs over the soft skin of Aziraphale's balls, smirking to feel his cock twitch against the taut linen.

"This morning," Aziraphale whimpers. Crowley bites him again. "While you slept!" 

"There we are," Crowley says soothingly, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's cheek. He slides his cheek along Aziraphale's, looking down to watch as he removes his hands from Aziraphale's trousers. He lets his palms drag over his angel's flushed prick as he goes, the slide of them a tease and a relief, judging by Aziraphale's soft sigh. 

"How does it feel to confess your sins?" Crowley asks, sliding around Aziraphale's side. Even in a human body, sometimes the snake in him is unmistakable. The arm across Aziraphale's shoulders, the press and lean of him against his side, feels so much like being wrapped in a serpent's coils.

"You feel marvelous, darling, as always," Aziraphale says as Crowley comes to a stop in front of him. Crowley draws up to his full height and frowns down at Aziraphale, who returns his disapproving look with a stubborn one. 

"Time for these to go, I think," Crowley says firmly, giving Aziraphale's trousers a solid yank that pulls them down around his knees. Aziraphale totters a little, caught off balance by the motion and unable to balance himself. Crowley catches him with one hand and snaps with the other, conjuring a pale blue rope, dangling from a hook in the ceiling. He winds the doubled end around Aziraphale's wrists in a simple rope wrist tie, listening to the quiet hitches of his angel's breath as he goes. Once the binding is secure, he wraps the dangling ends around his palm and pulls slowly down, raising Aziraphale's arms above his head.

With a smirk, Crowley palms his cock , a featherlight touch that makes Aziraphale gasp and buck into his hand. The movement stretches Aziraphale's hands higher still above his head, until he's rocking onto his toes and gripping at the ropes like a lifeline while he chases the hellfire-hot touch of Crowley's palm. He knows that Crowley will not let him fall, not ever, but he needs _something_ to do with his hands. Crowley strokes the backs of his thighs, the curve of his arse, and Aziraphale stills and holds his breath in anticipation.

"How many strikes?" Crowley muses aloud, and for Aziraphale's benefit. "What do you think you deserve for your transgression, angel?" he kneads the thick muscle of Aziraphale's backside with his free hand. 

"A- a dozen?" Aziraphale offers waveringly. He lifts his arse up into Crowley's grip, and much as his position will allow, then just a little more. Crowley pinches his bottom sharply for his trouble, and Aziraphale allows himself an outraged squeak of protest.

"Only a dozen?" Crowley prompts, suspecting Aziraphale would like more but hesitates to ask. He wraps his fingers around Aziraphale's balls and presses his thumb hard into his perineum before pushing it up into the crease of his arse.

Aziraphale bucks and whines as Crowley's thumb catches at his hole, then slides back down. "N-no," he whines, "a dozen for each cheek." He lets out a long breath, deflating, melting, and Crowley miracles a slipknot around the hook to hold him.

"Do you want to count them for me?" Crowley coaxes, and Aziraphale shudders and shakes his head. "Alright then," he soothes, letting his thumb circle Aziraphale's rim. He could slip a thumb inside like this, he knows, but that's not what Aziraphale has asked him for. Not yet.

He presses in just a little, just enough to feel Aziraphale spreading open against the pad of his thumb, hear the eager, anticipating puff of his breath. Aziraphale doesn't speak, doesn't ask for that instead, so Crowley pulls his hand away in a slow caress.

"Ready?" Crowley asks, steadier than he feels, and reaches around to press his palm flat against Aziraphale's cock, trapping it against his belly. Aziraphale moans and nods enthusiastically. Crowley flattens his hand and brings it down against my meat of Aziraphale's arse in a sharp slap. 

Aziraphale yelps at the impact, the expected sting, but he doesn't shy away from it. He lifts his hips as Crowley draws his hand back again, then thrusts against the hand pressed against his groin with a moan as the second blow falls.

Crowley doesn't try to stop Aziraphale crying out and bucking, only gentles him with quiet murmurs when his cries edge too close to sobs. 

He climbs higher and higher, until he loses track of the blows, of where Crowley has already struck him. He burns from tip to toe, but his arse burns most of all. Aziraphale tenses, body curving into bow as his orgasm jolts through him, catching them both by surprise. Crowley jerks to a halt with one hand raised for another strike as Aziraphale's cock twitches and pulses against his palm, coating his hand with the warmth of his spend. 

"Angel?" Crowley asks, strangled. Aziraphale slumps, kept on his feet by the stretch of his arms, the silken strength of Crowley's rope. The unsteady, elliptical sway of him brushes against Crowley's previously forgotten and now aching erection. "Did you?" Crowley doesn't know where he found the breath to ask, his lungs tight as a vice.

"Yes," Aziraphale sighs, pleased and sated, like he's just finished a perfect meal. Crowley plasters himself against Aziraphale's back, his long fingers clinging to Aziraphale's hips as he trembles slightly 

"Was it—?" he asks shakily, nuzzling at Aziraphale's neck where he'd left the bite mark.

"You were perfect, darling," Aziraphale assures him, cutting right to the heart of Crowley's uncertainty. He melts against Aziraphale's back with a quietly dissenting noise.

"Everything I could have hoped for and more," Aziraphale adds, just to feel Crowley squirm with embarrassment. He does not disappoint, and Aziraphale turns to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Now, if you'll just let me down so I can finish you off with my mouth, dearest." 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
